It surprises you every time
by klylu
Summary: “For once, Dean wasn’t doing anything dangerous, illegal, immoral or even slightly unhealthy.” And Sammy wonders.


Pairing: Dean/OFC  
A/N: that's a prompt challenge fic. i choose the picture of an apple, with the tag words 'green' and 'juicy'. And... this is my 1° attempt at SN... and my 1° OFC. pls, bear it in mind before flaming!! pretty pls?

A/N2: jenwin23 & Aimsame beta'd for me:D  
Disclaimer: not mine! believe me, i checked. twice!

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_199__4_

Dean was scared. And since he didn't scare easily, so that was saying a lot. But nothing had prepared him for this, not even his unconventional lifestyle. What if he did something wrong? What if he wasn't good enough? He didn't know what to expect, how to react, or what to do.

And, it figures, the sweet and sour juicy taste that invaded his mouth was the last thing he would have ever imagined. But the surprise made him laugh, and he finally relaxed. Everything was gonna be fine, Dean knew that.

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_Present day_

The Winchester brothers were lazily strolling among the colorful stalls in a smalltown market, trying to get some blood circulating in their legs after spending endless hours sitting in the car. It was a peaceful day, in a peaceful little town with no monster lurking in the shadows. That they knew of anyway. Sam would never admit it, especially to his brother, but all this peacefulness was making him restless. _No way_.

"...so, I was thinking, we could really use this apparently," Sam quickly took a suspicious glace around, "demon-free time to gather more info or, you know, research and— Dean? Dean, are you even listening... Dean!"

Sam couldn't help the exasperated tone, but he knew it was a lost cause. The moment he spotted them, he knew Dean would be drawn like a moth to the flame. It wasn't the first time it happened, and surely it wouldn't be the last. Still, with his eyes fixed on Dean's back, Sam shook his head and wondered about it, once again. His bro was making a beeline for the object of his desire, determined to get what he wanted and ready to use all his skills to do so.

It wasn't Dean's determination that bewildered Sam. He knew all too well how goal-oriented Dean could be. A demon to waste, his little brother's ass to save, or annoy. Yeah, even with more 'trivial' things, say, a girl in a bar on a one night stopover, or a trayful of cookies to gobble up, Dean could be as focused on his target as a hound dog on a hunt, never letting his prey out of his sight until he achieved success.

But... to score a free apple from the lady behind a fruit and vegetable stall at the market place?

An... apple?

Okay, getting something for free was definitely a Deanish thing to do. Charming the old lady, obtaining what he wanted while leaving her happy, like he had done something for her instead... that was Dean all over.

But again... an apple? _A green apple?_

Yes, because Sam knew it had to be green. It always did.

You could say two things about Dean and food. He wasn't picky, and he didn't aim for healthy. Sam had seen him eat pretty much anything edible, or _looking-like_ edible. And since they shared almost every meal together, he had already drawn the conclusion that Dean was just too good against the demons, and probably it'd be the cholesterol monster to have his soul, in the end.

So... why this thing with apples?

Sam had automatically changed directions to follow after his brother, and by the time he caught up, Dean, of course, had already gotten his apple from the lady. His precious_ green_ apple. Unable to delay gratification, he quickly had brought it to his mouth, and was about to bite into his prize when he sensed Sam. Dean stopped his movements, but one eyebrow shot up, in silent question.

"What?" Sam countered. Dean remained posed with the apple to his mouth and one eyebrow arched. "You, Dean. You and apples. What about it?"

"Dude, are you seriously implying there's something wrong with me cuz I happen to like apples?" Dean's voice managed to convey the right amount of resentment at his brother's insinuation, his features marred by his scowl of disbelief.

"Oh, come on Dean! Don't feed me that crap! I know you too well. Every time you see an apple— no, let's get this right. Every time you see a _green_ apple, you go after it. You charm old women to give you one instead of buying it, you climb trees to get one, you even buy them if nothing else works. Heck, I saw you swap a chocolate bar for one with a child, once! You swapped _chocolate_ for a fucking apple, for fuck's sake!"

"Green."

"Huh?"

"Green. A fucking, _green_ apple. Remember?" said Dean, waving his shiny green apple in front of his brother.

Sam sighed, defeated. "Okay, I give up. Why do you have this thing for green apples? You know... You? Fruit? It doesn't make any sense. Unless, ... a witch, for instance, cursed you with a compulsory desire to eat every green apple you came across or...," Sam tried to dream up some other bizarre circumstance responsible for Dean's obsession, "or, it could be a demon's bite that infected your blood and now you need... some enzyme, that you can find only in gr—"

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. You're babbling."

"I know that!" Sam shouted, annoyed. "It's just that I know this is something more than a desperate and futile attempt to balance your screwed up diet, and it drives me crazy not knowing why you do that, and why you get this dreamy, blissful expression on your face when you eat them, like you're savouring..."

"Life."

"Life?"

"Life."

"Dean... You completely lost me here, man."

"Don't you get it?" Dean asked, his tone dreadfully serious now. "Eating a green apple is like tasting life. At first, when you bite it, it's sour and makes your tongue shrivel. But if you don't give up, and let it dissolve in your mouth for a little while longer, you get the juicy sweetness. And every time it surprises you. Kinda like life, don't you think?"

Sam opened his mouth as if to reply, but couldn't think of anything to say in response to Dean's treatise on life and green apples before Dean continued.

"So, if you don't mind", Dean kept speaking, unperturbed by the sight of Sam, mouth agape, brows furrowed in concentration or consternation, trying to reconcile his brother with the shapeshifter in front of him. "I'll go somewhere where I can savour my... piece of life alone, with no obsessive, curious little brother around to spoil any pleasure I can get from it, 'kay?" he finished his lecture, still grave and solemn, except for a suspicious twinkle in his expressive hazel eyes. He patted Sam's shoulder like one would a puppy and then, without waiting for a reply, turned away, tossing the apple up in the air and catching it as he walked away.

Still silent, Sam nodded at his back without thinking. He had lost the ability to think after listening to Dean metaphorically compare life to a green apple. Sam paused. Shit, Dean had fooled him again. He had asked, and got nothing but bullshit in return. 'Cause there was no way in hell that Sam believed Dean's line of bullshit. And he was supposed to be the brainy one!

Would he ever learn?

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_That__ was too easy. He will never learn!_ Dean mused to himself, with a slight smirk, scanning the area to find a perfect spot to eat his apple, without his annoying little brother pestering him with endless questions.

He liked green apples. So what? For once, he wasn't doing anything dangerous, illegal, immoral or even slightly unhealthy. Unless you considered the fact that he'd conned an old lady for it, and it might be covered with pesticides.

Leave it to Sammy to question every damn little thing.

Well, Sam's dumbfounded, slack jawed expression after Dean's philosophical rant had been quite a payback.

Having found the perfect spot to eat undisturbed, Dean sighed with satisfaction, and closed his eyes in anticipation of the pleasure of finally sinking his teeth into his apple.

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_199__4_

Dean was absolutely pissed.

His father had been away for months now. He had left them at Pastor Jim's, 'to give them the opportunity to attend a whole school year in the same place', John said before leaving.

But Dean knew better, and was fuming.

His dad was onto something big, so he had decided to conveniently leave his children behind, to play lone wolf as he always wanted, without the hindrance of two kids.

Didn't he get that they were stronger as a family? Sure, _Sam_ was just a kid, but Dean could help. And then, they kept him grounded. When they were around, they reminded John there was someone to come back for.

Dean couldn't decide if he was madder at him or more worried for him, so he settled for hating everything and anyone around him. This was a good outlet for his anger and frustration, and kept him busy.

And then, this whole hating thing was just damned easy.

He hated the new school. Hated the teachers that regarded him and his brother like they were some kind of... orphans, abandoned by uncaring parents.

Hated the students, the whole lot. They were so... childish. They thought they were adults now, cuz they didn't believe in the monsters under the bed anymore. What a joke. He was torn between laughing at their naivety or hating them some more for their innocence.

And he was supposed to spend a whole school year among them? To get some stability and... what? A taste of real life? Someone had a weird sense of humor, no kidding. _His demons_ were real. He could fight and waste them, or die trying. Okay, that should sound more like _he could help his father fighting and..._, but that was soo beyond the point.

In this fake real life, at best he had to face stereotypes. And you can't really waste the all-mighty captain of the football team, the nerd, and the ditzy blonde cheerleader that haunted every damn high school, can you?

Well, with the first one, Dean went close. As the homeless poor kids taken under the Pastor's wing, he and Sammy surely fit as the defenceless students to be picked on by every bully in the school, with the 'heroes' of the football team in the front row.

How could they know that 'Dean' and 'defenceless' didn't really fit that much?

Of course, he was far more trained than any normal teenager, no matter how much time they spent in the gym building up their muscles. One wrong word at the cafeteria, and the tall, undefeated captain learned his lesson the hard way. If this sounds a lot like overreacting, it's worth not forgetting here _how much_ Dean was angry at the time, and how much the big bully resembled a punching-bag.

The nerds? For the life of him, after the cafeteria 'accident', Dean never saw one of them.

Okay, two down, one still standing. Yeah, the ditzy blonde cheerleader. Except, she actually wasn't a cheerleader, but a damn fine swimmer on the school team.

But she was blonde, wasn't she?

A small crowd of admirers followed the 'queen' everywhere she went, ready to satisfy every little whim of hers. She was picture perfect, her family was well off, and everyone just loved her.

Well, except Dean of course.

He hated and loathed her so much, that he often forgot he had other persons to be mad at, like his father, for instance. Obviously, every time he realized that, he despised her some more.

It had been hate at first sight or, better, at first crash. It happened the first day of school; Dean was making long, angry strides along the unfamiliar corridors, his flannel shirt billowing behind him. His father had left a few days before, and his rage was still palpable, keeping everyone at large.

When the girl impacted against his solid chest, she simply didn't stand a chance. A matter of seconds and she was with her butt on the floor, her books scattered around, and a green apple rolling from her squashed launch bag.

The scene was funny actually, and Dean's tension eased for a moment while a laugh began bubbling in his chest. Of course, the girl wasn't exactly pleased, and her deep blue eyes sent daggers that could have killed on the spot a mere mortal. Her pout though told a different tale. She knew she must look like a little silly sitting on her bum, and she was torn between laughing at herself and saving face. Dean took pity of her, and extended his arm to help her up.

Just a second before their hands met, and he could utter an apology, all hell broke lose. A wild horde of boys and girls crowded the teenager on the floor, fussing around her like crazy flies. Once she got up, the girls straightened her clothes and arranged her hair, while the boys picked up her things, competing for the privilege to carry her books. Everyone kept asking if she was fine, like she had been badly injured by a drunk driver, no less.

Of course, as Dean was said drunk driver, he got more blameful glares and mean words than he could ever stand, even if he were in the most cheerful mood, which he wasn't, and if he had committed a lese-majesty crime, which he hadn't.

His angry mood came back with a vengeance, and he stared at the undoubtedly spoilt chick with a mocking smirk, apology forgotten. As soon as he got her attention (easy enough, since he was the only one _not_ fussing around her), he slowly picked up her apple.

"I'll carry this for you, 'kay, princess?" he drawled, then he turned and made a great show of polishing it against his flannel.

When he sunk his teeth into the green, shiny apple, Dean could have sworn he felt some of those daggers sticking in his back.

Things went downhill since then. As hard as he tried, Dean couldn't get rid of the girl. _Of Krystal_. Yeah, cuz he soon learned her name. He learned every damned thing about her. Anywhere he went, people talked about her.

"Did you notice that beautiful red halter top Krys wore yesterday?"

"Krystal told me she bought that new Soundgarden record."

"Oh yes, the party. I think I'll go. Krys said she will be there."

Dean couldn't care less about the party, the disc or the top, whichever color it was. He couldn't care less about _her_. Well, he did listen Soundgarden. _Sometimes_. And he had notice the top... But he was a male, right? And then, he surely hadn't noticed the color.

To make it worse, they shared most of their classes. Dean tried his best to avoid her, or even talk to her. But the girl was clearly too stupid to get the message.

She didn't note his stubborn silences and how his body tensed when they were in close proximity. Didn't she get how much he despised her? How much he couldn't stand all that giggling, carelessness and naivety?

Apparently not, given the secret smile adorning her lips every time the teachers assigned them both to the same project. Yeah, he groaned, and she smiled.

Well, maybe Dean had underestimated her. Maybe Krystal wasn't that dumb. She was just a _sadist_.

Maybe she did notice, and he was the stupid one.

That could explain why, after that first encounter, Dean had entered his classroom only to discover that the only available spot was in the front row, practically on the teacher's lap. And right next to hers.

Or why every time she spoke to him she _unintentionally_ touched him. A pat on his arm, her hand lightly brushing his. Nothing big, or worth mentioning. But Dean kept wondering why his skin burned that much, afterwards.

Yes, maybe she _knew_. That was just an evil plan of hers, to make his life a living hell just cuz he didn't try to get into her good graces like everybody else.

His suspects turned into certainties a few days before Halloween. He had seen her talking conspiratorially with one the teachers that morning, their eyes looking suspiciously in his direction. Dean had just shrugged, not really bothered about what she was up to. He bothered a lot however, when he discovered that said teacher had signed him and some other of his classmates to 'volunteer' for the safety program for Halloween. They were supposed to escort a bunch of trick-or-treating snotty kids.

Oh god. Baby-sitting little brats high on sugar. Costumes. Could it get any worse? Of course it could. He had been paired up with _her_, for fuck's sake!

Halloween night, Dean went to the meeting point in the school yard with less bounce in his step than a dead man walking. There was only one little thing he could hope for that night but, given his luck lately, he knew he was gonna be disappointed in that as well.

Yeah, there wasn't gonna be a naughty nurse waiting for him that evening, nor a sexy Xena dressed up in black leather, for the matter. No way. Just old, plain...

"_Red riding hood?_" Dean asked, actually more shocked at his own disappointment than at her choice.

"Yeah, so what?" Krys countered back, jutting her chin out defiantly. Then, she batted her long eyelashes. "Don't you like me?" she asked. However, her flirty tone didn't belie the warning in her stormy blue eyes, clearly 'suggesting' only one possible answer.

Dean laughed despite himself. "I have to hand it to you kid. You could be intimidating even wearing plaits. Let's go now, or those masked runts will eat us alive if they don't get soon their dose of candy."

He turned, and started walking towards the first house, while the children in their care screamed and ran forward. If he liked her? She had gone for the epitome of unsexiness! How could he like her, with that ridiculous, red and white little dress, that barely covered her long, slender, tanned legs? Or the bow of the stupid red cape, that enticed his stare on her cleavage... Not to mention those silly plaits, that left exposed the tender skin of her neck.

Yeah, how could he find her even remotely attractive?

The teenagers spent the rest of the evening walking side by side, without really acknowledging the other. Or better, doing it when the other wasn't looking. The kids were noisy enough to cover their silence, and they just followed them in their sugary quest.

At the right time, they left the kids back in the school yard, where the parents had gathered to collect their children. Krystal went to say goodnight to some of the other 'volunteers', while Dean just leaned against a wall, waiting. When she came back, heading home, he just followed her.

Without the screaming brats around they were kinda forced to speak to each other and, pretty much against their will, after the initial awkwardness it soon became a damn fine conversation. When they reached her house, Krystal stood there in the porch for a while, her back on the door, like she was waiting for something.

"So... you're just too cool for costumes, huh?" she eventually said like she didn't believe any of it, when nothing actually happened.

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't do costumes." Dean replied smirking. Then, he gave her a once over. He had a smart remark ready on his lips about her outfit, but she spoke first, effectively cutting him off.

"How come you don't like me?"

The outburst took him by surprise, but..._ Finally!_ Dean thought. It took her so long to realize that!

Except... Except, she wasn't stomping her foot like a spoiled brat who didn't get what she wanted. Her tone was shy, almost subdued, and even if she was looking straight into his eyes, Dean caught a touch of insecurity in her voice.

That wasn't the queen of the school questioning one of her rebellious subject. No, that was more personal. That was just a girl asking to a boy. Maybe... to a boy she liked.

_Oh crap! She likes me! Does she really like me?_

Dean was too stunned to utter a word, let alone a whole sentence. He stood still for a few minutes, waiting for her to say something. _Anything._ And hoping not to look too stupid, standing there rigid like a dummy, mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face.

Finally, Krystal shook her head, like she wanted to get rid of a bothersome thought. She sighed, then searched for something in her basket.

"Well, anyway... Thank you for walking me home, Dean. And that's for you", she added as a second thought, handing him a green apple.

"An apple? Don't you have something better there, like... candy, or chocolate?"

"Of course I've got chocolate, you moron. It's Halloween. I scared people into giving some to me. But chocolate's too sweet for you, don't you think? So... g'night Dean. See you tomorrow, 'kay?"

She got inside before he had a chance to reply, and that was good, cuz he couldn't think of a smart comeback for the life of him. Still, he got the impression he should have done something, or at least said something. Whatever it was though, it escaped him.

After that night, Dean tried to behave as usual. He tried to forget she existed _as usual_. It hadn't been easy before, when he hated her, but now things were getting worst. Now that he spent hours wondering if she liked him. Because, maybe, he liked her back.

Before, there were the casual touches that burned his flesh, the laughter that attracted his attention no matter what, and glimpses of skin that made his heartbeat go faster. Yep, maybe he had _slightly_ misinterpreted his own reactions to her, hadn't he?

But now, he was swept away by an avalanche and he didn't know where he could seek refuge.

Now there were half words with double meanings. She looked at him when he didn't notice, and turned as soon as he caught her looking. Not _right before_ he could catch her. _Never_ before. Wintertime was rapidly approaching, and since she seemed to feel the cold, it was a good thing Dean kept forgetting his sweaters everywhere. She always brought him the piece of clothing back. After wearing it for hours.

And how do you get rid of the smell, anyway?

But to be honest, it wasn't all _her_ doing.

Why did he keep forgetting the damned sweaters around in the first place?

Whose fault it was, if when he went to see the swim tournament he kept imagining her in a _red_ bikini? Luckily, he managed to keep out of his fantasies the cape and basket, for crying out loud. But why did he go to the contest anyway?

Several times, when he checked on Sammy at recess he found him happily munching a green apple. Why did he suspect she had something to do about it? Without doubt, Pastor Jim gave the fruit to the boy so that he could have a healthy snack. Yeah, sure. The old man knew the importance of fruit and vegetable in a kid's diet, didn't he?

And really, Dean couldn't just ask Sam. Apparently, he had mentioned quite often her name at home, and every time he let slip it again, his annoying little brother gave him a strange, questioning look.

No, Dean was all alone in this. Or... not? Right! At least one person was in the same predicament, wasn't she?

Yeah, she was. She must be. Shouldn't she?

Dean decided to approach her one morning at school. It was time to make it stop. And if he didn't know how cuz, really, he wasn't quite sure of what was going on, he was determined to make _her_ stop it. Whatever _it_ was.

Krystal was in the school yard, leaning on a tree and biting the unfailing green apple without a care in the world.

When Dean faced her, she looked up at him, unimpressed by all his macho posturing. Yeah, act cool when you're trembling inside. And why he was that scared? She was just a slip of a girl, damnit! But right now, he'd happily choose petting a werewolf over talking to her.

This thought made him angry all over again.

"Do you wanna stop _that_?" He spat, annoyed at her and at his own fears.

Said slip of a girl didn't blink, defiantly looking up at him. She knew instantly what he was talking about, and despite her Zen composure different emotions flashed in her big eyes. Her irises turned bluer and Dean could have sworn to see his own anger and fears reflected on them. But there was insecurity too, and confusion. All mixed up with... excitement.

"Do you wanna kiss me?" She shot back out of the blue, deadpan. Like he hadn't spoken at all. Like she was asking to borrow a book.

Ouch. How did she do that? With a totally unexpected twist, she had regained the upper hand in that bizarre conversation.

Did she even pay attention anyway? They had this big issue between them, and she dismissed it to ask about ki— oh! Maybe _that_ was the issue!

"Someday." Dean answered, playing it cool _and_ trying not to show his shock for how actually cool that sounded.

"Someday, huh? What about today?"

Oh crap! Where do shy girls go when you need them?

Well, right in front of him, apparently. Just hidden behind layers of cheekiness.

"You think you can ever kiss me?" She barely whispered now, vulnerability and stubbornness warring in her voice.

Hell yes, he did.

Everything was suddenly clear now. What had escaped him Halloween night. What she knew all along and he didn't.

He did want to kiss her.

Dean slowly closed the distance between them. Krystal didn't move, but stood there, waiting. She was looking up at him, her gaze unwavering. The only thing that betrayed her apparent calm was the slight hitch in her breath, that increased as the distance between them grew short.

Dean got so close he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. Hell, he wasn't even sure it was physically possible to be that close. He could have counted the freckles on her nose. If he'd been still able to count, anyway.

He was lost in a dazed stupor, like his brain couldn't assemble the inputs his body was sending. Her smell through his nostrils, the black of her pupils almost swallowing that amazing blue. Her startled gasp when his hands, practically on their own volition, went to her waist, brushing lightly the skin left exposed by her low-rise jeans and short azure top.

It was the muffled 'thud' of something falling on the ground and rolling away that broke the spell. Krys' hand, now free, entangled in the hair at the base of his neck, and then there was nothing more than naked desire. To taste. To taste _her_.

When their mouth finally met, he groaned against her soft lips and coaxed her to let him in. The sweet and sour taste surprised him and made him laugh for a second, before he deepened the kiss.

And for the longest moment, Dean forgot everything but the sweetness in her mouth.

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_Present day_

When Sam finally found out his brother, Dean was sitting placidly on a wooden bench, in a small, hidden square just behind the market place. He was already nibbling at the core of the apple, careful to get every tiny juicy bit he could, like a greedy child. He just smirked to acknowledge him, then got back to his task.

Sam chuckled. Dean behaved like a kid most of the time, and Sam wasn't sure if this really, _really_ annoyed him. It was... kinda endearing. Just a tad. Well, he could just call his brother 'cutie' out loud, and get even for the annoying part.

"Okay, Dean. You won. I give up." Sam said eventually, sitting on the bench next to his brother. He was still a little frustrated by the whole thing, anyhow.

"Give up what?" Dean asked innocently.

"Arrgghh! You like driving me crazy, do you?" Had he really thought that brat was endearing? "You, apples. Ring any bell?" Sam added, exasperated.

Dean just smiled like the Cheshire cat. Then he launched the core in a garbage can, and dried his hand on his faded blue jeans, while his mocking hazel eyes were still fixed on Sammy.

"Stop looking at me like that! You're a pain, you know?" Sam went on, not really waiting for an answer. As that smug grin wasn't enough. "I just racked my brains without finding an explanation, and the only thing remotely related to green apples that came to my mind was that pretty girl, when we were staying at Pastor Jim's, remember?"

Luckily for Dean, Sam wasn't looking his way, and just missed it when his face fell.

Dean cleared his throat, suddenly dry, and tried to divert Sammy's suspicion. "Can't say I remember. Just too many pretty girls in my life, you see?"

"Yeah, I know, lover boy. This girl... Krystal. She was in your class, I think? I don't remember how we met, but I'll never forget the horrified look in her face when she saw what Pastor Jim had packed me for lunch." Sammy chuckled. "From then on, she brought me a green apple every day. I thought she was lovely." He added, his smile softening at the memory.

Sam had a faraway look for a little while, and Dean held his breath, fearing the worst.

"Dean..." Sam trailed off, when a sudden though snapped him out of his daze.

_Oh god, kill me now! _If it were an option, Dean would have whimpered.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was steadier now, like he was onto something and was just looking for evidence. "Oh, come on, dude. You _must_ remember Krys. I used to think you had this big crush on her! I mean... You tried to act casually, but I just kept saying her name, cuz you turned a striking shade of red every time I did that. You blushed to the roots of your hair, and your ears turned crimson, you know, just like... like..." Sam's words died on his lips, and he tilted his head, while he looked speculatively at his older brother.

"Like _now_." Sam exclaimed, accusingly. "Dean!"

FIN

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A/N3: Uhmm... i stole a few lines from SN, but i'm not gonna apologize for that! lol. But, i got some from a movie too. Four actually. Should I credit? Could you guess?


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